Captive
by VictoryInTrouble
Summary: Short story set long ago in a different time and place. Eric and Sookie are both locked into lives that bring them no happiness. When they find each other, will their love and determination be enough to free them from a life of misery? Not a vampire story but not an all human story either. Warnings include talk(not scenes) of torture, child abuse. M for sex and violence AU/OOC
1. Chapter 1

**HI! Some of you may have seen this story on Wordpress but for those who don't use it, I wanted to bring this story here. It will be about 5 parts long, and there are three parts already written. This story is a little darker than my others, it's a little different in the use of the language. It's set in basic medieval times but I didn't want to use all the medieval language so I tried to make it sound authentic without that. If you read the summary, you saw the warnings for this story- and that's basically because Eric has a horrific backstory for this and he talks about it. So there are not scenes depicting the warnings but it is mentioned. That said, things will start off hard for these two but get better and I will leave them happy, don't worry! :) Thanks for reading!**

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><p>He was brought before her—a slave, but the most beautiful one anybody had ever seen. He stood defiantly, looking her straight in the eyes. He could not be broken, they told her. Choose another. But she had insisted. He was tall—taller than any of the guards—and lean, with sparkling deep blue eyes and long wheat colored hair. He wore a scrap of cloth to make him decent but that material did nothing to hide the rest of his strong body. He was covered in dirt, caked mud and sweat. He had the strength of five men and they worked him just as hard. His suntanned skin bore the scars of his open defiance of his captors.<p>

She walked around his body as if inspecting an animal for purchase. His head swiveled and he followed her with his piercing gaze. She paid him no mind as she looked him over. She was close enough to feel the heat of his body, see the sweat roll down his skin. They must have fetched him straight from the quarry. She watched his stomach move in and out with his deep breaths. He was not frightened to be brought before her. He stood tall and proud, relaxed, as she decided whether to accept him or not.

She lifted his cloth and peered under it. He growled as a small smile passed her lips. His guard lifted the whip menacingly.

"Bathe him. He will do," she called.

"But, my lady, he is a savage. You should choose another that will come willingly. I'm afraid he might—"

"Silence!" the princess screamed. "I said bathe him! If you will not follow my orders, there are many others who would love to run their hands along his body to clean him!"

The slave snarled in disgust at the prospect of being washed my men such as the one before him.

"Draw his bath and let him clean himself," she ordered. "I'm sure he knows how?" She looked at the slave who stared right back at her. "Answer me, slave, or do you want William to put his hands all over you? Perhaps you like that sort of thing?" She smirked at him as he reluctantly opened his mouth.

"I can bathe myself," he bit out, his hands clenched at his sides to keep from striking out.

"Very good. See that you wash all that hair. I won't have you stinking up my bed." With one last look she turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the room.

The captive was led to a bathroom bigger than his entire tent. He was made to stand while his bath was filled and then watched over as he cleaned and shaved himself. He was given a linen to dry off with and then told to sit to have his hair and body plied with sweet smelling oils. He curled his lip as the princess's manservant, William, came forward to rub the oils into his skin.

"I can do it myself!" he barked, snatching the small vial from William.

"Watch yourself, slave! You may be big but I could have your guard in here with one word and we shall see then who will be compliant."

"You are a coward," the slave mumbled, uncaringly dousing his head with the oils.

"And you are a pig," spat William. "The princess will have her way with you and then you will be tossed back out amongst the mongrels where you belong."

"Jealousy does not suit you," he smirked.

The slave smirked at him and William was seething in anger. How dare someone so beneath him behave in such a way! He was just about to call to the guard when the face of a pretty young girl appeared in the doorway. William immediately fixed his face into a smile.

"The princess is tired of waiting. Is he not ready yet?" She eyed the beautiful slave, whose blue eyes narrowed at her. Her breath hitched as he brought his arms up to tie his hair back with a bit of silk left for him. His biceps bulged with his efforts and his body shone from the oils. She eyed his cock, even lying flaccid against his thigh it was impressive. He was truly magnificent and Jessica knew why her mistress had chosen him despite his savage reputation.

"He is ready," said William, sidling up to Jessica.

Jessica moved from him in disgust. His interest in her was unreturned. She knew him to be uncaring in whom he bedded, often taking unwilling slave boys. He would not be getting close to her, of this she was sure. "So bring him to the princess!"

The slave was given a clean pair of loose linen pants, his torso left purposely bare, and led to the princess' bedchambers.

"Leave us!" she ordered as soon as he was in her room.

"But Princess, he might harm you. Surely you don't mean to be alone with this animal!"

Princess Brigant whirled on the unsuspecting William, causing him to lose his balance and stumble against the wall. The slave expelled a short hard breath, suppressing the laughter in his belly. William cut his eyes to the brute and then looked back at his princess.

"I only wish to keep you safe, my lady! I could stay and watch…Make sure you are unharmed by this swine."

"I said leave us! I will be fine! You think I am so weak that I cannot defend myself?"

"No, Princess," said William, hanging his head as he shuffled to the door. "His guard will be right outside."

As soon as he was gone, Princess Brigant took a deep breath and bounced onto her bed with an undignified huff.

"Jackass," she mumbled. She looked up at the man standing near the door. His eyes were trained on hers. He seemed relaxed but guarded, as if at the first sign of danger he would stand ready but until then he could not be bothered to care.

Getting up, she walked up to him and stopped a foot from his massive chest. "What's your name?" she asked softly.

He peered down into her face, wondering if she meant to lull him into behavior that would get him beaten. What he saw in her eyes changed his mind and he found himself answering her question without thought. "I am Eiríkr of Öland," he said, "But your people call me Eric."

She smiled. "Eiríkr ," she said, purposely calling him by the name of his land. "And are you a savage as William says?"

He regarded her carefully as he decided on his answer. In the end, he went with the truth. "Yes."

The princess laughed. "Oh, good!" she said, patting his arm. "I am frightfully bored. Shall we cause some trouble?"

"Princess?" he exclaimed, startled by her words. He furrowed his brow at her and looked at the spot on his arm that she had touched. Nobody had touched him in such a kind way since his mother so long ago. When she took his hand and led him to her bed, he was even more bewildered. "Why have you sent for me and had me bathed? I had thought you meant to…I thought I was meant to pleasure you…"

The princess patted the bed beside her and waited for the giant to sit down next to her. "I will tell you a secret, shall I? I would never take a man against his will. Wait!" she said, when Eiríkr opened his mouth to speak. "You will say that most would be willing. That pleasuring a princess is better than working the mine or the quarry…but is it really their will if they are choosing the lesser of two evils? No, when I give myself to a man, he will want me just as much as I want him."

"So you have never…? And when you have these men brought to you—for we have all heard the stories—you do not bed them?" He looked at her with surprise on his handsome face.

"I am untouched. I do not need to force a man, however subtle the coercion may be. What I do need, is friendship. And a purpose. Shall I tell you my purpose?" she whispered, leaning in close to her new potential friend.

"Tell me," he said. He found himself leaning in as well, until their faces were inches apart. He took a breath in and swallowed hard. She smelled better than anything he had smelled in years and he felt his body's stirring response to her proximity.

"I am going to get you all out of here."

Eiríkr leaned quickly back and stared, open mouthed, at the princess.

"Surely you are joking, Princess. How do you mean to do that?"

"Sookie."

"Sookie?"

"My name. Sookie Brigant at your service." She smiled again and this time he could not tear his eyes away from her full pink lips. "And I mean to do it with your help. I have a friend in each camp. By this time, our plans have been spread among the men of all but one camp—yours. Will you help, Eiríkr of Öland?"

"I…of course, I will help. You mean to let us all go freely? To let us go home?" His voice was strong and steady but his eyes betrayed his emotion at the prospect of home. It had been such a long time since he had seen the land of his youth.

"I plan to help you fight for your freedom. I am simply the organizer. You will have to fight hard and prepare yourselves for battle. The men will need a leader, a champion. I know your reputation as one who will not be pushed around. Will you do it?"

"Yes. I will make sure all those in my camp are ready."

"Good. Come, let us make ourselves comfortable in front of the fire and I will have food brought in for us while we discuss our plans." She led him to a large plush chair in front of a roaring fire and he sat swiftly, warming his tired body by the flames. The hot bath was the first such luxury he had enjoyed in many years. He was used to being cold. The meager amounts of wood they got for fires were barely enough to cook the food scraps they were thrown nightly. Still, it never got as cold as his homeland. Even in the dead of winter, such as now, a man would not freeze to death wearing only a scrap of clothing. And during the day when the sun was high, a man could still work up a sweat if he toiled outside.

Sookie sent for a huge lavish meal and as they ate, they went carefully over every aspect of the plan. Things needed to move quickly as the feast of Maenad was in one month's time and there was still much to prepare. It was during the feast, when the guards would be distracted by festivities and drink, that Sookie's plan would be carried out.

"Thank you, Sookie. I have never met someone such as you. You are brave and kind and good. Why would you want to help barbarians like ourselves?"

"You are not barbarians. You are simply men. Some of you were taken so young that you do not even remember your mothers or your brothers. Some are so far from home, they have no hope of seeing it again, some are so old they will surely die before their journey's end. Just because my grandfather's army has captured you does not mean I agree with it. He only wants to become rich. You were not taken in a war—there is honor in that at least. You were taken by surprise raids, snatched up as children or while in small unarmed groups. And for what? So Grandfather can use your strong backs to mine for precious metals and gemstones! The King is a coward and a greedy monster!"

"But he is your grandfather. You do not wish him to be wealthy? Surely his money will be yours one day."

"I do not want it!" she spat. "Money earned by the suffering of men is not money I will ever wish for!"

Eiríkr looked upon the princess with respect. It would be easy for her to live her life among the royals, flitting from one activity to the next but she had a sense of adventure and a moral compass that he found honorable.

"You are a wise and courageous person. I hope to serve you well, my princess."

"Eiríkr," she said softly, reaching out to lay her hand on top of his. "You do not serve me. You will serve no one again if our plan is successful."

"Thank you, Sookie," he said, bowing his golden head.

"Now," said Sookie with an impish grin, "should we go and fuck?"

Eiríkr coughed loudly, needing a drink of his wine before he could talk. "I thought you said that was simply a ruse."

"Yes, but they are expecting to hear it so we must put on a show. That little rat William listens at the door, I am sure of it."

He followed behind Sookie as she led him over to the bed and he could not help looking at her ample backside as she walked. He felt that same stirring in his loins as before when he had smelled her.

Sookie crawled onto the bed and he had to clamp his mouth firmly shut so that she did not hear the vulgar noise that slid from his throat. She looked back and saw him frozen there. "Come on then! Don't be shy!" She flopped onto her back and patted the bed next to her. She winked and then said loudly, "Make me scream in pleasure…if you can!"

Eiríkr threw his head back and laughed. It was a beautiful sound but it made Sookie's heart ache. She was sure he did not have enough reasons to laugh heartily in his life.

"Do not doubt my prowess, young Princess!" he declared, "for when I am finished with you, you will be able to make not a sound!"

Sookie raised her eyebrows as he came closer to the bed. He smiled sheepishly and Sookie saw him looking unsure for the first time since she had laid eyes on him. She smiled warmly at him. "Good," she whispered, casting her eyes down to the bed where she wanted him to lie. He was hesitating for a reason she did not understand.

Seeing that she wished him to lie next to her, he sat with one leg bent on the bed and lowered himself until he was lying down quite near the edge of the bed. He felt ill at ease and was startled when she grabbed his hand. He looked over and saw the playful mirth in her eyes and could not help his smile.

Sookie motioned for him to continue but he was unsure of what she wanted so he remained quiet. When she tipped back her head and moaned loudly, he felt a ripple of pleasure travel the length of his spine, lodging securely in his groin. He knew the stirring in his pants would soon be visible and panicked slightly at the thought.

Sookie noticed the disquiet of his countenance and frowned. She brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "You do not have to make noise. Some men are quiet until the very end, are they not?"

"It has always been quiet for me," he mumbled too low for the princess to hear, though he nodded to show his understanding.

Sookie stood on top of the bed and continued to moan loudly, sometimes knocking the wall above the bed with her fist. Eiríkr was enamored with the show she was putting on and had forgotten to hide his excitement. When Sookie looked down his body and blushed furiously, he looked as well, and was immediately overcome with remorse.

He sat up quickly. "I am sorry," he whispered. He stood and paced across the room, ashamed of his lack of restraint. Sookie got quickly up to follow him and stood behind him watching his muscled back. "Sometimes I cannot help—"

"Of course, Eiríkr. Do not be ashamed. Come back to the bed. I will stop the noises." She grinned, though he did not see it. "We can jump!" she said excitedly.

Eiríkr turned around. "Jump?"

"To make the bed creak and groan." Her eyes were alight with joy. These clandestine meetings were the only happiness in her life; she did not have much cause for laughter either. She grabbed his hand again and led him back to the bed, pulling him to stand on it with her.

He stood still as she jumped in a circle all around him. She would call out a word or two— "Yes!" or "That's it!"—every few jumps. Eiríkr laughed again. It seemed she had a knack for turning his mood around.

On one pass behind him, Sookie threw herself onto his back, clutching him around the middle. She felt carefree and silly and he was definitely strong enough to hold her.

When he felt her land on his back, her hand grazing his bare stomach, he flinched and threw her off. She landed on the bed with a grunt, surprised by his forceful move.

He immediately put his hand out to help her up. "Please forgive me. I was…you startled me. Are you hurt?"

Sookie's brow furrowed as she looked up at him. His face was a mask of shame and hurt and she did not feel she knew him well enough to ask him what he was feeling. She was sure they both had secrets to keep. "No bother!" she said cheerfully. She stood and began to jump again, this time with less joy at her games.

Eiríkr sat against the headboard and looked up at her, thankful that she did not press him. He smiled at her childlike glee but his eyes were quickly captured by the bouncing of her body as she jumped. Her body was not childlike in any way and he appreciated the way her breasts heaved up and down with her movements. He pulled his knees up so as not to put his excitement on display again and tried to think of something to douse the fire in his belly.

He soon thought of something that was like a frigid bucket of water to his loins.

Sookie was grinning as she jumped but as she regarded her companion's face, she stopped her feet and flounced down at his side, taking his hand into hers.

"Do you wish to leave?" she asked. Sookie would not hold him against his will. If he wanted to go back to his camp, she would let him.

"No," he answered slowly.

"Are you hungry? Would you like more wine?"

"No. I am fine." He looked at her with a sad smile.

"You don't look fine. Something bothers you."

"It is nothing. I am not used to someone caring how I am feeling. Truly, I am fine."

"Okay," she said. She felt a deep ache in her chest for this lonely man. In truth, Sookie had no one who really cared how she was feeling either except for those who were paid to—her servants—and her grandfather, who only pretended to care about her wishes when in actuality he just wanted to use her for his own gains. She looked at Eiríkr's bronze skin next to her pale arm, felt his calloused hand in her soft one—they were so different yet much the same.

They looked upon each other in silence for a moment before Sookie dropped her eyes away from the virtual stranger that she felt herself deeply drawn to.

"You can sleep here if you wish." She knew if she sent him back, he would face a cold tent and a small pallet on the hard ground. She felt a strong need to keep him close to her. She knew she would be forced to send him back to his camp eventually but she wanted him to stay in comfort for a little while longer.

"It is fine. You can send me back." He wanted to stay, of course he wanted to stay, but he knew this luxury could not last. Rather than get used to something he might miss, he would leave and resume his life among the other men.

"Will you stay for me then?" the princess asked softly.

"For you?" he asked.

"I am always alone, Eiríkr. Would you stay and sleep next to me for a while? They will think we fell asleep after vigorous love making and will leave me be for a few hours. Will you rest beside me?"

"I will." He smiled at Sookie and she smiled back and they sat simply smiling at one another for a long time.

"I must take off my dress," Sookie whispered after a while.

He swallowed. "Why?" His eyes were large with wonder.

"Because, no doubt William will come in as we sleep and if he sees me in my full dress, he will wonder why. I suspect he spies for the King, the slimy toad! I will still be covered if you are worried. I will keep my under-tunic on."

"I am not worried," he murmured, looking into the princess's eyes.

She swallowed this time. "Good," she said. She got up and turned from him but she was still aware of his eyes on her as she removed her rich blue dress, unlacing the bodice before slipping it off. She dared not look into his eyes as she climbed back into the bed beside him.

Had she looked, she would have seen the raw and passionate look in his eye as he watched her breasts sway. She would have seen his pupils invade the blue of his irises until his eyes were dark with desire. And she would have seen him shake his head to clear his thoughts because he knew she did not mean to arouse him. He understood why he was there and it was not for sex.

Sookie laid her head down beside Eiríkr and he scooted down on the bed to lie next to her. They lay side by side in silence before Sookie rolled over to face him.

"Eiríkr," she said softly, not wishing to disturb him if he were already sleeping.

He rolled so that they were face to face.

"Sookie," he whispered. His eyes were soft, his face relaxed, and she did not fight her urge to reach out and touch him. His lips parted in a sigh as she brought her hand to his cheek. He could not remember the last time someone touched him so tenderly. She stroked light fingertips down the side of his face and over his sweet bow mouth. He closed his eyes as her fingers gently traced his eyebrows. He moved his hand to hover over her, not sure what they were doing, not sure where would be appropriate to let it rest. He finally settled it on her waist, draping his long fingers softly over the small of her back.

"You are so beautiful," she breathed, looking into his blue eyes.

Such a look came over his face, such pain filled his eyes that Sookie nearly gasped. His brow knitted as grief spilled over his features. Sadness soon gave way to anger before he seemed to notice the way Sookie was looking at him. He rolled to his back once more to avoid her gaze.

"I did not mean to cause you pain, Eiríkr," she whispered. She tried to touch his arm but he flinched away.

"It is not you, Princess. Please think nothing more of it." His voice was gentle but there was a tiredness to his words that made Sookie's chest ache. She was trying to be kind to him and what she said had painted his face with sadness instead.

Rather than continue speaking and risk hurting him further, Sookie moved tentatively toward him, wanting in actuality to throw her arms around him and pull him protectively into her bosom. She took his hand again, this being the only form of comfort he seemed to accept, and laid her cheek slowly against his shoulder.

Eiríkr shifted and put his arm around her so that her head rested on his bicep. He bent his neck and buried his nose in her sweet-smelling hair, letting his eyes drift closed while he breathed deeply. And then he slept, and his slumber was deep and carefree. Night noises did not plague him, fear of being woken for vile reasons did not prevent a tranquil rest. He slept peacefully for the first time since he was forcibly removed from his homeland so long ago.

Sookie woke first and sat up, watching the peace on Eiríkr's face as he slept. He was so beautiful, even if he did not want to be told as much. She reached out her hand to remove the silk tie from his hair so that it would fall loose around his shoulders. As soon as she touched him, though, she found herself suddenly on her back with a wild-eyed man on top of her, softly growling. She looked into the glazed eyes of a savage, his lips pulled back into a feral snarl.

"Eiríkr!" she shrieked, pushing at his chest.

The door to her bedroom burst open and William charged in with a palace guard, sword and whip at the ready.

"I heard you scream, Princess! What has he done?"

"William, leave!" she shouted, never removing her eyes from Eiríkr's face.

"I will not leave you in this state," cried William, who took in the scene before him. The brutish slave was on top of his princess, his face twisted into rage as he looked toward William and the guard.

"I am fine. He won't hurt me. Leave! Now!"

Eiríkr, realizing that he needed to calm himself or face the guard and his whip, climbed slowly off the princess and sat down on the edge of the bed, all the while keeping his eyes glued to William's, challenging him to make his move.

"You see? He will not hurt me. Now go before I have you thrown into the stocks for disobeying your princess!"

William puffed up his chest and looked briefly at the princess before lowering his eyes to the floor. "As you wish," he said. He turned to walk away and then turned back before he reached the door. "I'm sure the king would like to know that one of his slaves was misbehaving with his granddaughter."

Sookie simply stared at him, not playing into his idle threat. Once he was gone, Sookie crawled to sit by Eiríkr's side. "He will not say anything. He is all smoke and no fire. A blathering idiot who tries to curry favor with anyone who has power."

Eiríkr remained silent at her side and Sookie ran her hand down his arm soothingly, which he allowed.

"I will go now," he said quietly. "I regret having scared you. It was not my intention."

"What happened?"

He turned to look at her then. He wore the same expression of shame and hurt as before. "When I am woken," he said quietly, before taking a slow breath to figure out his words, "it is never for anything good."

"I see," she said, although she really did not. She did not understand the life he led, the things he'd seen, the things he'd done—the things done to him. She could not understand, she was a princess. But she did understand about being a captive, about the unhappiness that came with living a life not of your dreams. She knew the longing for something more and the fire for a different course in life.

They sat silently for a few more minutes, Sookie stroking his arm soothingly, until Eiríkr stood. "Send me back," he said. He turned around, his eyes burning with some unnamed emotion, "Please." He could not bear the feeling, the hope, the companionship. He could not let it sink into his bones and make him weak.

Princess Brigant looked up into his eyes for the final time this night. She saw the light flicker out, cold detachment replacing the warmth in his eyes. "Very well," she sighed.

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><p><strong>What did you think? Gonna keep reading? :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

The second time Eiríkr was brought before the princess in as many weeks, he was thrown onto the ground at her feet. He growled and braced his hands on the floor as he pushed himself upright. He stood straight up, staring at both of the guards who had pushed him down.

"What have you done to him?" the princess screamed. Eiríkr was filthy and battered, a cut above his eye pouring blood down his face.

"He would not listen. He is a slave. This is what happens when you do not listen!" said the guard called Andre who had used the hilt and pommel of his sword on Eiríkr. He looked with disgust on the creature now standing before his princess.

Eiríkr looked back at the guard with an unflinching gaze until the guard looked away.

"Leave us!" shouted Sookie. She was ready to jump on Andre and tear the sword from his scabbard, burying it in his side.

"My lady, he was in a rage outside, surely you don't mean to use him now. Besides, he is filthy. Let me fetch you another."

"He will be taken care of. Jessica! Accompany me to the bath with him. She will clean him. He is not in a rage. Look at him, he is civil."

"But he deserves more punishment! He struck me and kicked Bertram—he will not walk for months at the least! You must let me take him to be beaten! The king does not look kindly on mercy shown to the slaves."

Princess Brigant stepped forward and with a light touch to Andre's forearm, leaned in. "You will go now. The slave has been punished enough. Nothing more is warranted," she whispered in a voice like honey.

Andre sighed. "Yes, my lady. Nothing more is warranted. Thank you, my lady." He smiled and turned around, walking out without another thought for the slave.

The princess and her maid, Jessica, brought Eiríkr to the bath and helped him sit as he waited for the hot water to be brought in to fill the tub.

Once done, he stood up to let the princess untie his meager clothing. Before she let the material fall away from him, she turned to Jessica.

"You may leave him to me, Jessica. Please stand watch outside."

Jessica gave a dutiful nod, a small smile on her lips. "I will keep William away."

Once she was gone, Sookie looked up into the gentle eyes of her Eiríkr. She let him hold the cloth covering him and stepped away. "Go ahead and take it off and then get in. Would you like me to turn around?"

"I am not modest," he said, "but thank you for asking." Such courtesy was a foreign concept to him. He lived among men who knew nothing of modesty or etiquette.

Sookie tried to keep her eyes averted as he climbed into the massive tub but she could not help the glimpse she caught of his backside before he lowered himself into the water. He hissed in pain and pleasure as the hot water bathed his wounds and his bruised skin.

Sookie looked on with worried eyes, guilt and grief in her heart for this man. "What happened, Eiríkr? Why did they do this to you?"

"I would not listen," he said with a tired smile on his lips, settling back against the tub.

"Why? Why not listen and avoid all this pain?" she asked, wetting a cloth to dab his eye. "Hold this here," she instructed as she pressed his hand over a wad of cloth on his eyebrow.

He winced as he held it firmly and she gently wiped the blood from his face.

"This is nothing," he said. "This does not compare to the things I have experienced."

"This is not nothing! Blood is gushing from your wound. Your face is bruised, your body is cut and battered!"

"They would have killed him!" he spat with disgust.

"What? Who would they have killed? Eiríkr?" she asked, when he remained silent.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Godric. He had need of a small rest and some drink. I took him back to the tents when they told me to keep working. He would have died! They will move him now," he sighed. "They always separate any who form a friendship. He has been moved so many times because he always makes friends." The small smile on his face warmed Sookie's heart. She could see his love for Godric clearly and was happy that something could make him smile. "This is the third time he has been in my camp and I was happy to see him, though he should not have to be there. He is an old man now, much too weak to be working the quarry but still they make him labor in the sun!"

Eiríkr was on the verge of raging once again. He had forgotten about his wound and blood flowed freely again until Sookie gently pressed his hand back in place.

"I am so sorry, Eiríkr. I understand why you did not listen and I find no fault in your actions. We must find a way to help your friend. Has he any talents?"

"You mean to help him?" His despairing eyes turned to her and the small amount of hope in them broke her heart. She ached to help him in some way and assisting his friend seemed a good way to bring some happiness to him.

"I could have him sent to work in the palace but I must find something for him to do…"

"He was a baker before he was captured by your king." More hope rushed to his eyes. Would she really do something like this for him?

"A baker? That's it! I will have him sent to the kitchens!"

Eiríkr's smile lit his face and his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "Godric is… he's my only friend. Thank you, Princess."

"You are most welcome. Please call me Sookie."

"No one has ever done something like this for me. You barely know me and you know nothing of Godric, and yet, you would help him?"

"Of course. You are my friend. That is what friends do, is it not?"

"Sometimes I forget that there are good people who would help someone with no gain for themselves."

"Eiríkr, you are that person. You helped your friend and this was the result," she said gesturing to the gash on his head.

He looked down at his lap, refusing to accept any praise for his actions. "I am in his debt," he said softly. "He looked after me when I was young and weak. He tended to my wounds and consoled me when I was frightened at night after…after…" He trailed off, unable to find words to explain the ghosts of his past. "He is like a father to me and I could not let them hurt him!"

"You love him. He is your friend and you helped him. You are a good person."

He looked up at her, his eyes intense. "Princess, you have no idea what kind of a person I am, what kinds of terrible things I have done."

"I can tell you are a good person. You have had to do horrible things, I do not doubt that. But your heart…your heart, Eiríkr, is pure."

"You can't know my heart, my lady. There is evil and hatred in my heart."

"You only hate the people who have hurt you. I see your heart every time I look into your eyes. You are a good and gentle person among depraved and disgusting men."

"The entire world is full of disgusting men. I am no better."

"You are better. I think the world outside this kingdom must be full of good people," she sighed.

Eiríkr gazed at her, at the hope in her eyes which he envied. "I am glad you think that," he said. His life was far too full of ghastly experiences to carry so much hope.

Sookie took a new cloth and a cake of soap, lathering it for him. He held out his hand for it but she brought it to his shoulder instead.

"Princess?" He spoke softly, moving his eyes from her hand on him to her face.

"Let me bathe you," she whispered. She looked into his eyes, letting him see her need to care for him.

"You wish to bathe me?" His eyes burned as they watched hers. He enjoyed the gentle touches the princess bestowed upon him but he was naked and he knew what would happen if she continued to touch him now.

"I wish to bathe you," she affirmed with a shy smile.

"But, Princess," he breathed. He never would have dreamed to be served in such a way by a member of the palace. He longed for her to touch him, to whisper sweet things to him and hold him close, but he could not afford the disappointment of such yearning.

"Call me Sookie…please," she said, pleading for his companionship as equals as well as his permission for her tender care. She waited until he nodded his head slightly, though his eyes were in his lap.

She slowly moved the cloth to his broad back and began to rub it in soft circles around his shoulder blades. She moved around behind him as she let her hands drift slowly down his back, following the cloth with her gentle fingers.

He sighed and let his head drop forward as her cloth traveled back up his spine and then to his neck. She pressed her fingers into his tired muscles, massaging the tension from his frame. Eric reveled in this touch; this touch was so different. This touch was _wanted_. Being cared for like this felt so distant from his experiences of late, but if he concentrated, he could just catch the fleeting memory of a far-off time when someone had loved him in this way.

Sookie placed her hand under his chin and tipped his head back, pouring hot water over his hair and down his neck and back. When she lathered his hair and slid her fingers into it to massage his scalp, Eiríkr moaned softly. Sookie breathed out a small laugh but was immediately sorry when his cheeks flamed red in shame.

"I am sorry, Eiríkr. It feels good, I know. It is good that you enjoy it." She traced her thumb over his flushed cheek, her hand cupping his face and bringing his eyes up to meet hers. "Enjoy it…please." This was all she could do for him, this was her only way to better his life for now and she wanted him to take pleasure in her offering.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Sookie continued to wash his hair and Eiríkr remained mostly silent, an occasional deep breath or quiet moan escaping his parted lips.

After she rinsed his hair, she brought out her brush and gently brushed it, liking the way he sighed when she ran the brush through his thick blonde mane. She brushed until his hair was soft and shiny and then she braided it into a single plait down his back.

He reached up to touch the braid, smiling in delight like a little boy. "It is like my father's," he said. "Thank you. I do not deserve such kindness from someone such as yourself."

"Nonsense. You deserve this and much more. There is so much I wish I could do for you."

"Why have you sent for me again? Is our plan not set? Are there changes?"

Sookie put her finger to her lips and looked toward the door. "We will talk of that later," she whispered. "I just…missed you."

"You missed me?" he asked. "Surely your life is full of more pleasant things than spending time with a slave—"

"No!" she said fervently. "Do not call yourself that!"

Eiríkr smiled at her— a small, tired smile. "It is what I am. Denying it will not alter that fact."

"Maybe Eiríkr, but you are not only that!" Sookie's words were impassioned but he was not moved by her sentiment. He had learned long ago that so much hope was a dangerous thing.

"Maybe," he conceded. "But that is what I am right now."

"No, right now you are my friend."

Eiríkr smiled at Sookie, genuinely this time and it made his eyes crinkle with happiness. Then as suddenly as the feeling overtook his face, it was gone, replaced by the melancholic expression he always seemed to wear. "I had many friends once," he murmured.

Sookie remembered a time when she had friends as well. "When I was young, Mother and Father let other children into the palace to play with me."

Eiríkr looked at her with kindness in his eyes. "I have heard about them—their goodness. It was a terrible accident that befell them. I am sorry, my lady."

Sookie hung her head, lost for a moment in her grief. "Yes, well it was long ago," she said with fake cheer. She looked up and into his eyes when she felt his hand on hers. His eyes were so gentle and compassionate. She smiled and tried to clear her head of this sadness. She meant to make Eiríkr feel better now, not need consoling herself.

"And your days have not been happy since then?" he asked.

"My grandfather turned my care and keeping over to his trusted courtesan, Lorena. Lorena is many things but a caring nurturer, she is not. William is her son, so you can imagine what type of person she is. Their relationship is not entirely chaste, as it should be. They are depraved and I believe my grandfather wished me to become like her, unflinching in her deliverance of suffering for her own gains. But I could not forget the lessons of my gentle father. Lorena made my life, that was once full of fun and love, a dreary and lonely existence. I was no longer allowed to have friends, I was taught only what my grandfather sanctioned. I crave knowledge of the world, something my father nurtured in me. He used to tell me that…" She looked at Eiríkr, suddenly ashamed, realizing that her troubles were trivial compared to his.

"He used to tell you what, Sookie?" he softly asked. His eyes were sincere. He was enjoying listening to her speak, hearing her heart brought out through her words.

"No, it is nothing. Here I am blathering on, thinking you would wish to hear me complain of such unimportant things while you bleed from a head wound. I am a silly girl is all."

Eiríkr squeezed her hand that still lay under his own. "I wish to hear you speak of whatever is in your heart. Our lives are not the same but we both know hardship. Please, continue if you so wish."

"Thank you," she whispered. "You need not be so kind."

"I am not kind. I do not often have the time and energy for conversation, nor do I usually have the companion to share stories with. I want to hear your voice, Princess, if you would like to speak."

Did he really believe he was not kind? Or good or friendly? "Eiríkr, why do you not think yourself a kind and good person? You do the things a kind and good person does."

He was quiet for a moment. Weighing her words and his response. "There is darkness in my heart. If I were able to do everything in my heart, fulfill every dark wish of my soul, you would see me for the monster that I am."

"And you think there is no evil in my heart? That I do not despise my grandfather and wish death upon the sycophants who serve him with no mind of their own? We are the same."

He looked hard at her, his eyes piercing hers. "We are not the same!"

"No, no of course not," she murmured, dropping her hands away from him and standing up.

Eiríkr was, at once, ashamed of his harsh words. He reached a hand to her but she turned from him. He stood, the water had gone cold long ago but he liked her company too much to say so.

"Princess," he said. "Sookie…forgive me. I did not intend for that to sound so harsh." She turned around and looked at him and he felt his heart lurch in his chest as he noticed the tears in her eyes. He forgot his nakedness and was in front of her instantly. This feeling in his chest, this gnawing sickness in his belly was an unwelcome new sentiment. That he was the cause of her grief, he could not stand it. "Sookie…please," he whispered, placing a hand lightly under her chin. "Forgive me. I only meant that you are good and I am not. You have wished death upon men but I have carried out my wicked thoughts. I have killed, Princess. More than once." He stepped back from her then, fully expecting to see fear and disgust in her eyes as she looked upon him. What he saw instead was compassion.

When his brow furrowed and his eyes questioned hers, she knew he did not understand her loving and gentle look. A tear escaped down her face and he watched it fall, his face falling as well. He did not understand, he was not used to being treated with the gracious affection which Sookie felt for him. "I forgive you. Do not think yourself a monster for killing vile men such as the ones who guard you. Should I question you, I have no doubt that each killing would be fully justified." Sookie let her eyes fall down his wet and naked body and she felt her face heat at the sight.

Eiríkr looked down as well, the fever in her gaze casting fire upon his body. He swallowed as she stepped up to him with a long strip of linen. She held it up, winding it around his waist and every time her hands brushed his skin even the slightest amount, his body burned even brighter.

Sookie looked up at him when he was covered, at the glow of desire in his deep blue eyes, and slid her hands slowly up his glistening stomach, over his heaving chest and right up to his long corded neck. She took his head in her hands and pulled him down slightly.

His body responded, firming and tightening as her hands slipped over his skin. Eiríkr inhaled the sweet scent of her, felt her breath fan over his face but she was only inspecting the wound above his eyebrow. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from touching her. It was not his place, it was not proper to have such desires for the princess. She only meant to care for his wounds, not incite his passion. He held his body still, prayed to gods long forgotten for strength and chaste thoughts. Finally, finally she let him go and backed away from his trembling body.

"You are cold," she said, walking to fetch him some pants and a tunic. "Please, dry yourself well and take these clothes to wear."

He smiled and accepted the clothing, though his body shook for different reasons. "Thank you, my lady. You are too kind."

Sookie sighed as the formality returned to his countenance. Would he ever see them as equals? Would he ever accept her affections as merited by him?

She led him back to her bedchamber and over to the fire so he could warm himself. They sat together in silence, each trying desperately to think of a topic of conversation.

"Your head looks better. The bleeding has stopped. Would you allow me to put some salve on it? And on your ribs and back?" He had small cuts all over and a large bruise on his ribs.

"I will be fine, Princess. You need not bother—"

"I want to…please, Eiríkr."

He looked into her eyes and saw the truth in her words. He did not wish to disappoint her when she wanted to be of help to him. He would let her help him even thought her touch was sure to drive him mad. "Yes, very well, thank you."

Sookie went to fetch the salve and came to stand in front of Eiríkr where he sat in a low chair by the fire. She removed her dress while he watched, her breath quickening from the raw hunger on his face. She still wore her under tunic, she was still decent, she was just more comfortable. She bent and placed her hands on the edge of his tunic, lifting it and skimming her fingers along his torso as she took it off. His stomach tightened as he fought the moan in his throat.

Tilting his head back, she dipped a finger into the small cup of ointment and gently patted it on the cut above his brow. She was close enough to his face to feel the light touch of his breath on her cheek and even that slight sensation sent tingling pleasure flooding down her body. She smelled the clean scent of soap, the spice of herbs, and the musk of man and was nearly breathless with need for him.

She knelt on the hearth rug and dabbed the cuts on his torso with the salve. "How did all these small cuts happen?" she asked.

"The ground in the quarry is covered in sharp shards of rock," he said quietly. He did not like to talk of his pain and suffering. He knew that talking about it did nothing to help it so he would rather remain quiet and just endure.

"I am sorry," she whispered, walking around to the back of him. She put her hand on his shoulder, silently asking him to bend his back so she could better reach his battered skin. "And this bruise that wraps around your ribs?" She drew just her fingertips over the ugly bruise now forming along his side.

"My guard's boot." He shuddered from her light touch, goosebumps rising to the surface of his skin.

"I can make you feel better, let you think of something else for a little while," she whispered, her hand slipping down his chest and abdomen from behind.

He looked back at her and when her hand came to rest just under his belly button, he understood. "No, my lady," he said, putting his hand over hers and moving both of them off of his body. "I will not take advantage of your pity." This was wrong, this was not how it was supposed to be—a princess in the service of a slave.

"No," she said softly. She came around to the front of him, looking into his beautiful eyes and cupping his cheek in her hand. "You misunderstand. I do not pity you. I desire you, my gentle warrior. I wish to make you feel good. Has no one ever done something just for you?"

"Long ago, in a different life." He looked at the woman on her knees in front of him, at the warmth in her smile and the passion in her eyes. He could not resist her.

"Let me, please Eiríkr," she whispered, placing her hand on his stomach. When he did not stop her, she reached down and untied his linen pants. She lowered them slightly and moved her hand down until she grasped him firmly. She watched his face, saw his mouth fall open, his eyes roll back. She saw the flush of his cheeks, heard the slow hiss of his breath as she squeezed and stroked him. His head dropped slowly back as if the heaviness of feeling in his eyes was too much to bear.

He let his body relax as his head fell against the chair back. He had never felt something as good as this. He wanted to close his eyes and let the sensations take him from this place but he needed to look into her eyes more.

Sookie watched as he struggled to keep his eyes open, watched the muscles of his stomach rise and fall with his deep breaths. She felt a stirring in her own stomach at the reaction of his body to her attentions. When she heard his soft whimpering, his whining moans, she knew he was close. She brought her eyes back to his face, his furrowing brow, his parted deep red lips, flushed cheeks and hooded eyes.

Suddenly his body convulsed. His tightening stomach brought his head forward as his body curled inward and a sobbing moan tore from his throat. His hands gripped the edge of the chair tightly as his body fell against it, his back arched, his hips rocking. His stomach rippled with his movements as love for him sent a matching pulse of heat rippling through her body.

It was the best thing Eiríkr had ever felt. It was more than he could have imagined. More pleasure than he knew was even possible. It had never been like that before- not even close. Instead of the desperation to hold himself back, he had felt only the surrender to pure bliss. The sensation tore throughout his body, dissolving his control. He had never _never_ expected it could feel so good. What a difference when the touch conferred was also chosen.

He felt soft material being wiped against his belly, heard the pop and hiss of a log on the fire as warm light danced before his closed eyes. Deep satisfaction curled throughout his insides. An unfamiliar feeling bloomed in his chest and it sent a surge of joy through him that was unparalleled in his memory. It was quite possibly the best moment of his life so far.

Eiríkr opened his eyes as his breathing slowed and looked deeply into Sookie's blue eyes. Her smile was shy, her cheeks pink. He brought his hand up to her face, his fingers tracing the blush he found so endearing. "Thank you, Princess. That was…it was as I had never imagined. I am beyond words to tell you—"

She cut off his words with a kiss. Bold lips caressed his tender mouth, then parted, inviting his tongue to find hers. She moaned at his taste, his scent overwhelming her restraint. She clasped her hands around his neck and leaned in, desperate for more of him. Their heads tilted, their mouths locked together, both of them moaning, both clutching at the other with desperation and wild yearning. Knowing that there was not enough time, never enough time to do the things that made their hearts soar. She pulled back. "Eiríkr," she panted, "you must call me Sookie."

A smile broke across his face, so beautiful and carefree, so boyish and rakish at the same time. "Thank you, Sookie," he breathed, bending back down to her lips.

She stood, though, and took his hand in hers, walking them to her bed. While she moved onto it, he hesitated. "Come lie down with me," she invited.

He crawled to her and lay down on top of her, his hands coming to rest on her face as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

"Oof," she breathed when she felt the weight of him. She smiled at his eagerness but pushed lightly against his chest. "Let us wait," she said gently.

Eiríkr immediately moved from her, rolling to his back and scooting away from her on the bed. His face flamed with shame as he sat himself up and began to stand. "I am sorry, Princess," he said. "I did not mean to…I would never—"

She was dismayed that he was back to calling her Princess. How easily comfort slipped from his demeanor. "I know, Eiríkr. I know. Come lie beside me. I only wished to talk for a little while. I wish to know your heart before I know your body."

He turned to her. "But you wish to know my body as I wish to know yours?"

"Yes."

His smile was back. The one that made him appear innocent and shameless all at once.

"But first, can we talk? Will you tell me of yourself?"

"Of course, Sookie. Ask me anything you wish to know."

She smiled as he came back to lie next to her. She took his hand and kissed his scarred knuckles. He had seen many fights in his time spent with rough men. "How many women have had the pleasure of you between their thighs?"

He was silent. Shocked at the question. He had thought she would ask of his homeland, his youth, or his daily life—not this.

"That many?" Sookie thought he would laugh. She only meant to put him at ease with a silly and easy question. She figured there were many who had been given the pleasure of his body. There must have been many before he was brought to this place. He was too beautiful to have been ignored.

"No," came his quiet reply. "There have been none."

"None? So you have never…?"

"I have never had a woman."

Her brow furrowed and then understanding dawned on her. "Men, then." It did not bother her. She knew some men preferred the company of other men. Since he desired her, perhaps he liked both.

"Men," he agreed. "But it was not my will," he said, his eyes cast down.

His words cut like a sword through her belly. She had often thought on the hardships her grandfather's slaves had to endure, thought of the cruel punishments they were given, but she had never fathomed that something like this could be happening in the camps.

"Oh, Eiríkr, I am sorry." Sookie moved her hands to soothe him, her heart aching in her chest, but he pulled away.

"I do not need pity," he said softly. "I am still a man. I was taken as a boy from the shore of my homeland and thrown aboard a stinking ship full of men. I was too weak to defend myself and I did not understand the language spoken by the crew. I came to understand one word before any other—beautiful." The word was spit with venom as if its very feel in his mouth made Eiríkr sick. "It was spoken as I was tossed into cabin after cabin, as I was presented to one vile man after another. Once I became big enough, no one dared touch me. The last of your king's men who tried to force himself on me, ended up with a broken nose and his bowels decorating my tent floor." He was rubbing unconsciously over the deep scars crisscrossing his upper arms.

Sookie ached for his suffering at the hands of such brutal and repugnant men. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at him.

"Do not cry for me, Sookie. It has been many years," he said softly, wiping her tears with his fingers.

"They did this to you?" she asked, reaching out to run a fingertip down from his shoulder to his elbow where a particularly large scar was visible.

"Yes."

"I will kill him!" Sookie sobbed, seething in anger toward her grandfather. "How could he let this happen? It is one thing to keep slaves to work for you, even that is inexcusable, but to let children be abused at the hands of his men…how could he?"

"It is not always the king's men. Your grandfather has organized the camps so that men from the same area are not together in large numbers. This means that no one is loyal to anyone else and many problems are created. Of course, it is designed to make a unified attack unlikely. It also leaves many children vulnerable to their own camps. It does not happen any longer in my camp, however. I have put an end to it. I awoke to the whimpers of a boy one night and killed the man who held him down. I left him as a warning. I was beaten severely but none dares to perpetrate such heinous acts in my camp now." He smiled. "I have a reputation."

Sookie smiled back at him, at the pride and strength on his face. She wiped her eyes—she could be brave like him. "You do. I was told not to choose you because of it. You cannot be broken, they say."

He jutted his chin out. "I cannot. Through anything, I remain still and silent. To let them hear me cry out would mean that they truly owned me. I belong to no one but myself!"

"I am glad to hear it." She smiled at his bravery and resolve. She felt he was a kindred spirit, perhaps the mate of her soul as her mother had thought of her beloved father. Sookie missed her dear parents. They were long gone but always near to her heart. Her grandfather and Lorena were poor substitutes in comparison.

He smiled back at her, at the fire in her eyes, and felt himself stirring in her gaze.

"And so before that," she gestured toward the fireplace, "you had not been brought to completion by another's hand?"

He dropped his eyes and again she heard his words, "Not of my will."

Sookie was silent as she looked into his shame-filled face. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Sometimes, there would be a man who wanted to fool himself into believing the act he committed was not foul…so he would seek to bring me pleasure as he was taking his own. My body…is sometimes beyond my control—my reactions. I have spilled seed with other men but never willingly. Any peak I was given was not sought by me. If I could have stopped my body…"

"But you couldn't. That's not your fault."

He looked at her and gave her a small grateful smile. "It was long ago, when I had the soft body of the young. But I have grown strong toiling in your grandfather's camp and I will use that strength to attack and free his slaves to go home."

Silence hung between them and in that quiet moment Sookie felt her heart explode with love for this man who had endured so much and yet still remained so honorable.

"How old are you?" Sookie asked. He looked young except for his eyes—his eyes had seen far too much wickedness and tragedy.

"I think I am 23 years old. I was taken from my village when I had completed 13 winters and though the seasons are vastly different down here, I believe I have counted correctly."

"Twenty-three. You have been here nearly half your life. That is why you speak my language so well. I know you will be so happy to go home."

"I will wade into the ocean in all my clothes and kiss the sand when I see my home." He turned to focus on Sookie. "And you, Sookie? How old are you?"

"I am 20 next month. Grandfather wants me to be married. He says I am already too old to be unwed. But the men he picks would never suit me. He picks them for political reasons and they are the worst kind of men. They call you a savage but they are the monsters. They throw their strength around, showing off their brutality with disgusting ease. They think they can buy my love with trinkets! I will never marry such a man!"

Eiríkr clasped her hand, the sudden urge to beg her to come with him overwhelming his sense of propriety. He opened his mouth to ask anyway when the door to her chamber was thrown open.

Sookie immediately jumped up as she saw Jessica rush in.

"My lady! The king is coming. He is on his way in here right now! He must leave!" she pointed to Eiríkr, who hastily stood, tying up his pants. "The king is very unhappy!"

"Take him out the other doorway, Jessica," she said, swiftly donning her dress and lacing the bodice. "I am sorry, Eiríkr. I will send for you again. You must go quickly." She kissed him briefly on the lips and pushed him toward the door she wanted him to use.

"Will you be alright? Will he hurt you? I will not leave you to be hurt!"

"No, my love, no. He will not hurt me. Go now, please." Sookie had known he would find out what happened with Andre but she did not expect his ire would be brought upon her so fast. With one more brief kiss, Eiríkr departed, leaving the princess to pace to her desk and sit with a book just before the king burst in.

It wasn't until Eiríkr was halfway back to his camp and Sookie was bowing before her much hated grandfather, that either of them realized what she had called him. Secret smiles lit both of their faces, quickening their hearts and easing the thought of so much time until they could be together again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

"Susanna!" shouted King Niall. "Tell me you are not influencing my guards!"

Sookie stood and faced the king, bowing slightly. She hid her smile as thoughts of her beloved Eiríkr entered her mind.

"You dare smile as if this is a game!" the king raged. Past her open doorway Sookie could see Lorena followed closely by William and she had no doubt who brought her actions to the attention of the king. Sookie knew that Lorena would reward her son for his news with sickening favor just as the king would reward Lorena.

"No, sire. Forgive me. I was eager for the slave's company. I have found him to be one of the best and did not want his body marred by Andre. You know how Andre is. He is unrelenting in his wickedness."

"Susanna," said the king, softening slightly, "your desires do not trump my orders. That slave cannot be shown mercy. He is already arrogant enough. He defies orders whenever he wishes and no man has yet broken even a whimper from his lips—though not for lack of trying."

Sookie winced as she thought of all Eiríkr had withstood. She had wrought many a whimper from his mouth by being kind to him. She lamented her king and his evil ways. Eiríkr would be the perfect ally if King Niall had only gained his loyalty through honor.

"Forgive me, Grandfather." She bowed and kept her eyes on the floor to show submission. Calling him grandfather would hopefully soften him further toward her.

"Perhaps if you are so desirous, it is time to have a husband…Yes," he mused, "Yes, it is time. That should keep you out of trouble and out of my camps. A wedding will keep you busy. I fear you have too much idle time, child."

"Grandfather, I am only 19. I would not be idle if you sent me a tutor as I have requested. I do not wish to get married. The slaves satisfy me. I do not yet need a husband."

"You must not get attached to these savages. They are meant to serve us, that is all. Use his body, take your pleasure, but do not treat him as an equal. Do not take his seed into your body. Has Lorena not taught you well this lesson? He is beneath you."

"Yes, sire."

"You have inherited your father's gentle heart, but do not let it rule you. The slave, Eric, does not need anymore reason to be defiant. The only reason he has not been killed is because he does the work of many men and he wins fights and money for us."

"He wins fights?" Sookie tried to keep her voice level at this news but her fists were clenched as she learned of just one more horrid thing in Eiríkr's life.

"You know of Appius and Victor. Friendly wagers between neighbors is all."

"And you wager for whose slave will beat the other into submission?"

"Ah," said the king, his eyes shining with wicked glee. "To the death."

"To the death?" Sookie tried hard to make her face appear impassive. She looked down at the book still in her hands so that she could work to calm herself.

"Though next time, the wager might be different. It seems Appius is rather fond of Eric and may be willing to pay good coin for him. I have to admit, he is rather beautiful." Sookie blanched at these words, knowing what had happened in Eiríkr's past when he was called beautiful. "I may let him take him if he offers me enough. Oh come now, Susanna, if you are to be married you will have no more need of that irksome slave."

Sookie had not intended to let her grandfather see the panic in her eyes at the prospect of Eiríkr being sold to another monarch. "Of course, I care not if he is sold. He is a good bed partner, however. It would be a shame not to have the use of his body."

"Yes, well, you know Appius and his appetites. He will pay an excellent price for the use of that slave's body."

Sookie was on the verge of being sick all over her chamber floor at the thought of it. "When is the next fight?" she asked, hoping that her voice sounded nonchalant.

"Ah, it should coincide with the feast of Maenad- the coming of the new season. It will be a two day affair this year—festivities and merriment on one day and a day full of fighting on the other!" The king's eyes sparkled with evil mischief and Sookie could barely disguise the revulsion on her face.

"I see," she said, turning and sitting in her chair. At least she hoped to have Eiríkr gone by then.

"In any case, you will leave Eric alone. We shall choose a husband among the eligible and you shall be made busy with wedding planning. Should you find you need companionship before your wedding, you may have William. Lorena!" he called.

She appeared instantly. "Yes, Your Majesty," she purred, bowing deeply so that her cleavage was on display to the room. She was one of the only ones who called him that.

"Tell William that should the princess desire company in the next weeks, he is to be available to her whenever she wishes."

Lorena's smile was lascivious. This was what she and her son had been waiting for. If William could spill inside the princess and give her a child, she was sure she could get the king to allow him to marry her. Lorena had planted little seeds about William's sexual abilities and his availability to the princess so she did not need to take a slave from his work, and now those seeds were coming to fruition. "Of course, sire."

"I am sure I can manage without company for a few months until the wedding," said Sookie. She suppressed the shudder as she thought of taking William to her bed. She would make sure that would never happen.

"Well, no matter. I do not care what you do as long as you leave my slaves alone. I do not want to hear of you influencing any more guards. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sire." Sookie stood as the king opened his arms to her. She hated these small displays of insincere affection. She hugged him briefly and backed away with a small bow. "Good day, Grandfather."

Sookie threw herself onto her bed as soon as the king had left and the door was closed behind him. She fought tears for a few minutes but she could not hold them back at the thought that she was no longer allowed to see Eiríkr and that he might be killed fighting or sold in three weeks' time. There was also the fact of the king wanting her married sooner rather than later. The day had started out so promising and now things seemed bleak and hopeless.

Sookie allowed herself to wallow for a few minutes before she wiped her tears, sat up, and decided to be brave like her love. He dealt with much harder circumstances in his life and he faced them all with brave stoicism. She could do the same to be worthy of such a man.

Sookie's mind began to churn with plans. She was not allowed to ask for the company of a slave in her quarters but she had to speak with Eiríkr. Did he know of the king's plan for his fight after the feast? Was he aware of Appius' interest in him? Had Appius already shown Eiríkr his wicked desires? The thought turned her stomach and made her heart ache for him. His beauty had been his biggest curse.

Determined to find her way to him, Sookie began to plan for a night in the close future when she could go to him in his camp. She would have to be careful, but given her gifts, she was fairly certain she could go safely. The only thing she would have to worry about was making sure that the little rat, William, did not spy on her and make known her whereabouts. She might have to employ Jessica to help her.

But the first thing Sookie needed to do was secure Godric in the kitchens so that he was no longer forced to work in the quarry under the hot sun. She decided she would need to be discreet about this endeavor lest the king or William figure out that she had placed him there. Once in the kitchens, nobody would know where he came from and he would be safe. If word made it to the king that Eiríkr had made a friend, Sookie feared that Godric would be used against him. King Brigant would love to have something to hold over his indomitable slave in hopes of making him more compliant. She needed to find out where Godric was moved—if he was moved already—and get him into the palace with haste.

Sookie looked toward her doorway when she heard a light knock on the door through which Eiríkr had departed.

"My lady?" she heard spoken softly.

She walked quickly to the door and opened it. "Jessica. He is returned safely?"

"Yes, my lady. Though he wears palace clothing. I helped him to rub dirt into his pants so they are less noticeably clean. He is…well-built." Jessica blushed and smiled quickly.

Sookie smiled as well. "He is. Please come in." She ushered Jessica into her chamber and quickly closed the door, beckoning the girl over to the fire. "Thank you for the warning, Jessica, and for helping Eiríkr to get back safely. I am in your debt."

"It is my pleasure as your loyal servant, my lady. You owe me nothing in return." Jessica cast her eyes down in deference to her princess.

"Jessica, I thought that maybe you could be…my friend?" Sookie knew Jessica to be two or three years younger than her, having grown up in the palace as well. She came from a poor family who sold her to the kingdom at a young age and she had been working for the king ever since.

Jessica looked with surprise at the princess. "Your friend? I am honored, Princess. I will do everything I can to be worthy of your friendship—"

"You are already worthy. You need not do a thing. I have been missing friendship in my life for many years and it was not until I realized all you do for me that I recognized that I have a friend in you if I so desire. I am honored to be _your_ friend, Jessica."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Please call me Sookie. Perhaps you will be better at it than Eiríkr." Sookie smiled at the thought of him.

Jessica's eyes twinkled. "He is a rare man, that one. On the last occasion when the king invited the guards to dine with him, I served them. The heads of the camps were boasting of their wicked deeds. It was truly awful. But one such man in charge remained silent. He was the head of Eiríkr's camp and he had nothing to say. The other men started to poke fun at him, saying he had a slave who was in charge of the camp instead of him. They called him the slave to a slave. They said that Eiríkr does what he wants—he is beaten for it, but it does not deter him. He simply takes his punishment and continues to do the same as had gotten him caned or whipped in the first place. His camp's leader was angry but I could see a begrudging respect in his eyes. Eiríkr is truly a good man, Sookie. He protects the children in his camp…I can see why you love him."

"Can you tell that I love him? Is it obvious?"

"Only to those who know love. Fear not. The king will not know."

Sookie sighed. "I do so love him. I only hope he might someday love me, too."

"Oh, he does, my la—Sookie. You were the only thing he talked of on his way back to his camp. He spared no thought for his own safety, only asking me repeatedly if the king would not harm you. He almost ran back, when I could not reassure him quickly enough. Even if he may not have the words to tell you, he does love you." Jessica smiled as Sookie took her hand.

"Thank you. Your words are like a bird's wings to my soul, lifting it so that it may soar into the heavens."

Jessica smiled at the happiness in Sookie's eyes and they were silent for a moment. "What did the king want, if I may ask? Is Eiríkr in danger?" Jessica finally asked.

"He was angry with me for taking Eiríkr when Andre wanted to punish him. 'Your desires do not trump my orders, silly girl,'" she mimicked, using the king's deep voice.

Both girls laughed. "And will you see Eiríkr again? Surely your heart will not let you be parted for long…"

At Jessica's faraway look, Sookie spoke up. "Is there a companion of your heart, my friend? Do you have someone to miss?"

She sighed and looked at her clasped hands, rubbing one thumb along the other. "There is a boy," she whispered. "He is good and kind. He makes deliveries to the palace and is often here only once or twice in a week's time. His name is James."

"Oh yes! He is the son of the dressmaker. James was a friend to me when my parents were alive to allow such frivolities. We used to play together as his mother measured the women for dresses. You love him?"

"I do…but we have but a few fleeting moments after he makes his delivery. He talks of a time when the king would let me out of my servitude so that we may marry and live away from the palace…but I fear I shall never be able to leave this place!"

The despair on Jessica's face drove Sookie to divulge her plans of helping the slaves gain their freedom and offer Jessica the same chance at a life free of King Brigant.

"Would you really help me in that way, my lady?"

"Of course! And since grandfather wishes me to be wed as soon as he procures the filthy groom, I may just leave with you!"

"I think you might have to," replied Jessica, "for I do not believe that Eiríkr would ever leave you behind."

The two girls spent a moment giggling as girls of their age are wont to do when speaking of the opposite sex. Happy, carefree moments such as these were a rare occurrence for both young ladies.

Before Jessica left to attend to her duties, Sookie shared with her, her desire to see Godric moved into the kitchen. Jessica informed her that the guard that Eiríkr had injured was being attended to by the king's personal doctor, and was still at the palace. He would know where Godric was relocated.

Jessica said all this with a sparkle to her eyes that made Sookie wonder how much knowledge she possessed about her background. She had been at the palace a long time, it was possible she knew more about the royal family than she let on.

~~—~~—~~

Determined to right the wrong of Godric's enslavement in the quarry as soon as she could, Sookie made her way quickly to the room where the injured guard was recuperating. She made sure no one followed her and then swiftly slipped into the door. The light in the room was dim and it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust. When they did so, she looked upon Bertram, whose leg was badly bruised and swollen. She was secretly glad for his misfortune and hid the smile on her lips at his poor state.

Bertram blinked at her, wondering why Princess Brigant had come to see him. Perhaps to offer her condolences and to thank him for his service to the kingdom. He puffed out his chest as best he could lying down and tried to forget the pain in his leg.

"Princess Brigant," he began in as strong a voice as he could muster. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my lady?"

His voice was snakelike and the princess recoiled before she realized she would have to cross the room to him for her plan to work.

"I wish to see how you fare, brave guard," she said. She had to keep from curling her lip at the sight of his preening. No matter how pleasant he was now, she knew him to be a man of evil. A man who had hurt her Eiríkr.

"I will not walk for weeks. That wretched slave kicked me!" he said, before he calmed himself. His anger would not do in the face of the princess.

Sookie held back her snort. Eiríkr had no weapons, he wore nothing more than leather sandals! This man was whining about being kicked by an unarmed man when he carried a sword and whip, and wore boots!

"It is a pity," she said as she approached his bed, "that none of you could subdue one weaponless slave."

"He—he is a savage! He will not submit—not ever!" he stammered, trying pathetically to defend himself.

The princess put up her hand to silence him. She reached out and touched his bare shoulder and his eyes immediately looked at her fingers on his skin.

"I need to ask you some questions, Bertram. You want to answer me because your princess requires your help," she said, slowly nodding her head.

Bertram nodded along with her, looking into her eyes as he waited for her questions.

It was in this way that Sookie found out where Godric was placed and had Bertram call for him to be brought to the princess.

"My lady," Godric said reverently, bowing as deeply as his old back would permit.

Sookie took his arm and helped him stand upright, leading him over to her fire. "Please call me Sookie, Godric. Eiríkr has told me about your friendship, how you helped him when he was young, and how much he wishes you were not made to work the quarry. I trust he has told you of our plans?"

"Yes, Sookie. Is this why you wish to see me? I will help, of course. I do not know how much help I will be, however." At her gesture, he sat on a chair by the hearth, and took a thick piece of bread with butter from the platter on the table between them.

"No, Godric. I wish to help you. Eiríkr told me you were a baker before you were brought here?"

Godric looked confused at Sookie. "Yes…though I have made nothing in years besides flat breads with the rancid flours we are given." He took a large bite of his bread and closed his eyes in contentment.

Sookie smiled at him and passed him a plate piled with fruit and meat. "I would like to send you to work in the kitchens. Do you think you could do that work? I could possibly find something more suitable if—"

"No, my lady. Sookie. I would be most appreciative to work in the kitchens again, thank you for your kindness." He ate a small round fruit that popped in his mouth and almost laughed like a boy at its flavor.

"Grapes," she said, nodding to the bunch of them on the table.

"Grapes…delicious!" he mused. "Eiríkr told me of your kindness. He spoke of you like a boy speaks the stories of his people—with great awe and excitement."

Sookie blushed and placed her hands over her heated cheeks to cool them.

"Ah, you love him."

Sookie looked into his kind sparkling eyes. She could tell his heart was pure like Eiríkr's and was glad the two found their way to each other. "I love him," she whispered. "Is it that obvious?"

Godric smiled. "To those that know the feeling, that look on your face is easily recognizable."

Sookie sighed. "I have been told not to see him again."

"But you will not listen, will you?" he asked, his eyes sparkling again.

Sookie grinned. "I never listen. Will you help me to go to him?"

"Will you be safe? I can tell you of the quarry, draw a map to his camp. But you must be safe. If he learned that I led you to harm, I fear not even our long friendship will save me from his wrath."

"I will be safe, I assure you. Please, draw me a map and I shall follow it."

Sookie provided parchment and a quill and watched as Godric drew and explained how to get to Eiríkr.

Sookie thanked him for his help and then the two made their way to the kitchens, where she asked to see the head cook.

"Yes, my lady," he said, bowing as he dusted off his hands. "What can I do for you?"

The cook, Samuel, was a kind man. Sookie remembered fondly that he used to bake her favorite treats in an effort to cheer her after the death of her parents.

She smiled warmly at him and asked for a more private place to talk. He brought them to the small storeroom where the meats were kept.

"This is Godric," said Sookie, introducing the men. The cook eyed Godric's dirty clothes and disheveled appearance. "He is a baker from the North. He knows many new recipes that I am sure you would be happy to learn." She leaned in and placed a hand on his wrist. "Please treat Godric with the respect that he deserves, Samuel."

"Yes, of course he will be treated with respect." He turned toward Godric with a nod. "We must first get you cleaned up and into some proper kitchen attire. Come! I will see to your needs."

Godric smiled and clasped Sookie's hand. "Thank you, my lady! Thank you!" There were tears in his eyes as he looked into hers.

Sookie smiled kindly at him. "I cannot wait for a treat from your homeland," she said with a wink. She left the men to carry on, confident that Godric would be well treated by Samuel.

~~—~~—~~

Two nights later, Sookie was finally out from under the watchful eye of the dastardly William, who seemed to be watching her even more closely since the king's visit to her chambers. Each time she saw him lurking about in the shadows, a shudder ran through her body at the thought that he was waiting to be invited into her bed. He was nowhere to be seen this night, however, so her plans could be carried out at last.

She quickly donned her darkest cape—a deep blue—and lit a lamp to take her out into the darkness of the moonlit night. She used her lamp to follow Godric's map and soon recognized the outcropping of stone that signaled her proximity to Eiríkr's camp.

As she crunched along the gravel, she looked out at the vast amount of tents split into four camps. Each camp had about ten tents, which Godric had told her slept two to three men or several children. So many men taken by her grandfather. So many men stripped of their rights as humans because her grandfather saw himself as superior. Sookie felt sick as she looked at the meager fires—most of them almost snuffed out—that the men were made to use for warmth and safety. The guards had large hot fires high above, on the tops of the rocks, well away from the fetid campsites.

Sookie stopped suddenly and crouched low, placing her lamp under her cloak to hide it. She waited breathlessly for a guard to pass her by. He did not see her and kept walking, moving along the path to the town. At this time of night, he was likely on his way to find a woman to satisfy him.

As soon as he was safely away, Sookie stood and walked quietly to Eiríkr's camp, recognizing his tent by its position near the fire pit. Godric had told her what to look for.

Eiríkr had a tent to himself, as he insisted, much to the guard's disapproval. He did not share his tent except with a frightened child if there was one who could not be soothed to sleep with a story.

Sookie stood next to his tent, her nerves causing her heart to race and her hands to shake. She took deep breaths to calm herself. She peeled back the flap and stood in the entrance, unsure of her next actions. She remembered when she woke him before, how his eyes were wild and fierce. She knew that being in his camp would be worse, for this is where the worst things happened to him. She was afraid to venture further, to touch him, and startle him awake, so she simply stood and whispered his name.

"Eiríkr," she called softly. She saw him smile in the candlelight of her raised lamp though he did not wake. He was beautiful, so serene in his sleep. So much like a child, that her heart ached for the innocence that was lost too soon. She stood and watched his face for some time but the fires in his camp had been long since burned away and the air was cold. Sookie shivered out of fear and chill, and called his name again. This time his eyes blinked open and he was still as a statue, listening. She called to him yet again. "Eiríkr, it's me, Sookie," she whispered.

He sat up quickly and looked at her, his eyes boyishly wide in the dim light. He blinked, shook his head and looked again. He put his hand out and she went to him, falling to her knees as he enveloped her in his strong arms.

"You are real," he whispered into her hair.

She laughed and then hurriedly covered her mouth. "I am, my love, I am here."

"My love," he repeated breathlessly. When she kissed him, he pulled back. "I am filthy," he said with a regretful smile.

"I do not care," she said, pulling him by the neck. She tenderly took his mouth, letting him lead the kiss when he felt ready. She could tell he was uncomfortable by his uncleanly appearance but she really did not mind it. She pulled back and smiled at him but his eyes were hard.

"You should not have come here," he said firmly.

"I needed to see you."

"This was foolish! If someone saw you—if one of these vile men wanted…it will not matter that you are the Princess. You will be hurt!" His voice rose with his turmoil over what might have happened.

She shushed him, trying to place her fingers over his lips but he threw off her attentions, his muscles twitching as he imagined all kinds of atrocities befalling the woman who had shown him nothing but kindness. He could not bear it if she were hurt because of him.

"Eiríkr!" she pleaded, "you must listen to me." With her hands on his cheeks, she brought his face close to hers." She waited until the darkness crept from his eyes and he was seeing her, whole and unharmed, in front of him again. "You must listen."

He nodded, unable to speak or move, lest he pull her down to lie with him and never let her go again. She was his, she was for him—and he wanted her all to himself. Surprised by what he considered the disgusting behavior of men—claiming a person as if they were property—Eiríkr lowered his eyes from her face as shame flooded his heart and burned his cheeks.

"My love," she whispered, hoping he would come out of whatever dark part of his mind in which his thoughts were currently residing.

"No," he whispered. "You must not call me that. I am not worthy of this title."

Princess Brigant got angry then. Not at Eiríkr, though her incensed words were directed at him. "It is _my_ love I bestow! If I love you then I shall be allowed to call you my love and you must let me!"

Eiríkr smiled in spite of himself. What fire she possessed, what strength of mind and character she displayed. If it were possible to love her more, he would have at that very moment. Without a notion of what to say to the exasperated princess in his arms, he simply kissed her. She melted into his embrace and he pulled back, smiling. "I love you, Sookie," he whispered, giving name to the feeling he had been marveling over for the past week. She was beautiful in the flickering candlelight. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and as he watched her face light from within because of his words, he was awed at how much _more_ beautiful she could be.

"Oh, Eiríkr! Eiríkr!" she whispered passionately. "I love you!" She tilted her head and pulled him until their lips met. She still let him lead the kiss—because she never wanted to force something on him that he did not want—but this time, she licked his bottom lip in hopes that he would deepen the kiss.

Her actions stirred him and he opened his mouth, letting his tongue seek hers. He remembered when, as a boy, he would notice his parents kissing and think that the activity he witnessed could not be as pleasurable as they had made it sound. Now he knew the truth. Kissing was far better than he had ever imagined and he wanted to do it all the time. The only problem he could see was that when he kissed the princess, it made his body harden and his mind desire to move into further gratifications. He would not do so outside on the cold ground, however. That was how greedy men took their pleasure, without care for their partner. Eiríkr would not let her first time be in a slave's tent.

He pulled back, brushing his dirty fingers over her pale cheek. He winced as he sullied her perfect complexion and tried unsuccessfully to wipe her off.

Sookie placed two gentle fingers over his rosy lips as she notice him readying an apology. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and easily wiped the dirt away, smiling at the relief in Eiríkr's eyes.

"Now," she said, her eyes twinkling, "will you listen to me?"

"Yes, my lady," he answered, dipping his head slightly.

"Sookie!" she whispered fiercely.

Eric grinned. "Sookie," he murmured, dipping further to nuzzle her neck like a baby animal.

Sookie placed a hand on the back of his head and realized he still wore the braid she had done for him days ago. Of course, by now it was falling out and disheveled, but she secretly liked that he did not take it out. He still wore the linen pants as well, though now they were torn and muddied.

"I should have brought you some more clothing," she whispered sadly. "Next time."

He lifted his head. "You must not be caught here. Nobody must know of your visit and you must not come again!" He was working himself up in fear for her safety again and she knew she needed to get on with telling him why she knew she would be safe.

Sookie took a deep breath and then had an idea. "Turn around, please. Let me see to your hair at least."

"But you have no brush."

"I will use my fingers. Your hair is like reeled silk, my fingers will work well enough." Sookie had never revealed her nature to another who did not already know of her and she was anxious to know how his feelings would change toward her once he knew everything. Talking to his back would be easier. She would not have to see the fear and rejection in his eyes should it be there.

Eiríkr slowly turned his body and sighed once she had removed the tie and weaved her fingers into his golden hair. Sookie smiled as his head fell forward. She reached around and tilted his chin up with her fingers; she needed his neck straight for the braid.

As she gently detangled his hair, she spoke softly to him. "I am sure you wish to know why I was not afraid to walk among the camps tonight to find you." She felt Eiríkr's body tense as his fear resurfaced and she thought she would use her power on him just this once to calm him down so he could listen. She told herself it was not for selfish reasons although the truth lay somewhere in the middle. She let herself flow into him as she lightly stroked his shoulders. "Everything is well, Eiríkr," she said sweetly into his ear.

He sighed. "Everything is well," he repeated, feeling remarkably better. Everything _was_ well. His Sookie was sitting behind him, unharmed, with her warm hands on his body. His shoulders relaxed as worry fell from them, to be replaced by quiet peace.

Sookie kissed his shoulder blade, not caring that his skin was dirty, and then sat up to resume her explanation.

"I am not human," she said, figuring that getting right to the heart of the matter was the best way to tell him. Still at peace from her earlier actions, Eiríkr simply turned his face to look at her.

"Not human?" he questioned with a furrow to his brow. Not being able to resist his adorably confused expression, Sookie kissed his forehead. He sighed and blinked slowly, enjoying anytime her lips were on his skin.

"Well, not entirely. Some would call us God touched, others would call us witches—but we are neither."

"What are you then?" he whispered as if he were a boy listening to a bedtime story.

"I am Fae," she admitted.

"Fae," he repeated softly. Then his brow furrowed again. "I do not know this word."

"Some people call us enchanted spirits or sprites. The Good People, though from what I know, that is a lie."

Eiríkr sat up straight and twisted his shoulders to look at her. "In my homeland, we know the stories of the skogsrå—forest spirits. They are said to be very beautiful women who lure men away. They can be very kind but they can also be very evil. Is this what you are telling me?"

"I have never heard that word but it is possible. I assure you, though," she hurried to say as she watched his expression change rapidly to anger, "I am nothing like the legends state. I do not lure anyone, I am not evil—"

"But you compel people!" he said, cutting her off. "I have seen it! And…you have done this to me? Have you done this to me?" He shot upright and scrambled away from her, crouching against the low ceiling at his tent wall. "Before! When I was unfixed and then I felt only peace…that was you! You did that to me!"

Sookie was alarmed, her eyes wide at the fear and furious anger on his face. It was then that she realized her error. She had forced herself on him, violated his trust and betrayed his friendship. She had pressed her will upon him and coerced his feelings, imposing herself on his body as the men did before. He had every right to feel outraged and assaulted. Hot tears streamed down her face as she reached out to him. "I am so terribly sorry, my love! I only meant to make you feel better."

"I do not want to be _made_ to do anything! I trusted you! You do not understand what that means for me. I do not—I can not—trust anyone. Do you think that I turn my back easily? That I let just anyone sit where I cannot see them? I have learned not to trust. All I know is deceit," he whispered brokenly. "I see now that it is all I will ever know."

Sookie sobbed, a wretched sound that left her mouth and nearly tore Eiríkr's heart in two. He stood his ground, though he had to look away from her anguished face. She started toward him and he put his hands out. Her heart sunk as she recognized his want to protect himself—from her.

"Go now, Princess Brigant. Go and do not come back. I will follow your plan; I will fight for our freedom but you must leave and release me from your hold."

Sookie nodded as tears fell into the dirt at her feet. "I love you, Eiríkr. I am sorry," she whispered. She left his tent and stood outside in the cold, aimlessly walking the dirt surrounding his long dead campfire. She felt not the cold nor the night wind that relentlessly whipped her hair into her eyes. She felt only the deep grief, the aching tightness in her chest that her actions had caused. She could not breathe, could only gasp meager amounts of air into her anguished lungs. Maybe I _am_ evil like the Fae, she thought. This idea brought on a fresh wave of tears and she could barely contain her sobs as she recounted the cold and injured eyes of her love.

Once Sookie left his tent, Eiríkr nearly collapsed onto his cot. He cursed himself for ever letting himself hope in something as good as love. Love! He would never have it again and to hope for it, left him only pain. He cursed his infantile stupidity. That a princess could love him—what a foolish thought! That there would ever be someone who would not harm, who would not force! What a witless child he had been! He had been abused and defiled for seemingly his entire life. His body had been broken again and again but never had anything _hurt_ like this. Eiríkr laid his arms over his face to shield his eyes from the light which he could not bear. He retreated, back within the safety of his walls. He felt nothing inside the fortress he had built within himself. In here he was cool and calm and nothing touched him.

As he lay in silence, blocking the candlelight with his arms so that the darkness he felt was also surrounding him, he realized the reason why he was not truly in the dark. Sookie had not taken her lamp! Was she stumbling around outside in pitch blackness? Had she gotten lost? Was she in danger of being discovered?

Eiríkr was up, lamp in hand, and outside his tent before he realized what he had planned. His eyes searched wildly for any sign of the princess. He could not let her get hurt. He had to find her!

"Sookie," he called softly. He walked along the path leading toward the palace, hopeful that she had been able to recognize it even in the dark. "Sookie," he said again. His heart nearly fell from his chest when he spotted a small figure huddled on the ground a short distance away. She made no move as he approached and he wondered if she had heard him call for her. He crouched in front of her, reached for the hood of her cloak and drew it back. "Sookie," he whispered as she looked up at him. If he had felt the pang of her betrayal like a knife through his chest, as he looked into her eyes and saw the tender grief and yearning on her face, he was hit with more pain than that of a thousand knotted whips against his skin.

His heart seized and fell into pieces in his chest, and he pressed his fist over it to staunch the agony. His effort to soothe the affliction was for naught and so he reached out his hands, grabbed Sookie's cloak and pulled her small body up against his massive chest. He pressed her cheek to his heart, dipped his face into her fragrant hair, and only by breathing her sweet scent did he finally feel at ease. Only her soft weight in his arms, her damp cheek against his skin caused his heart to mend itself and beat again.

Sookie clutched at his back, pressed further into his gentle body, and finally breathed once more. "Forgive me. You must forgive me," she mumbled into his chest. She pulled herself out of his arms, which was a struggle since he was loathe to let her go. She looked up into his eyes and brought a slow hand to his cheek, which he allowed. "I know what I did to you was a violation of your trust. It was not my intention but I did not think about how it would be perceived by you. You have to believe I will never do something such as that again. Never to you, my love."

Eiríkr looked into her eyes and kissed the tears from her cheeks. His hands were much too dirty to do the job. "You must not cry, Sookie. I cannot bear it. I forgive you. I love you. Please forgive my foolish belief that I cannot trust in you. I know I can…It is not easy and you will most likely forgive my foolishness many times again…But I do trust you, Prin—" At her look of censure, he quickly changed the name he called her. "Sookie," he said with a small smile.

Sookie smiled then and felt her lungs ease even more. She kissed his kind mouth, softly caressing his lips with her own. When she pulled back, he smiled down at her.

"Come," he said, standing to his feet and helping her up. "Come and tell me everything there is to know about you."

* * *

><p><strong>Still with me? I almost left them upset but I just couldn't do that to them! How do you like it so far? Thanks so much for reading! :)<strong>


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